It was only When Elsie Blount had been‘a.’ day and a. night at sea. that Bhe realiied she had made a. hideous mistake. It was not far from mid- night when she sprang to this mo- mentous conclusion, and had it not been that the door of her cabin on the hired transport, Semiramis, was Mar she might have landed in Bom- bay without becoming aware that her errand might have been likened to that of a fool. Thevcabin was in darkness, and be- sidu the thud of the screw there was no disturbing element of sound save the soft breathing of Mrs. Dormer’s four children- in their .berths ' below her, and the swish of the seaâ€"quiet "Jolly for you,†said a man’s gruï¬ tones; with a ring in them of a de« sire for a, shipboard flirtation, “and doubly jolly for the fellow you're go- ing to marry. What did you say his name was? A soldier, of course. They always carry off the pick of the bunch." as ihe proverbial mill-pondâ€"past her port. There was a shrill, aï¬ected little laugh that Elsie recognized as be- longing to the smartest woman on board, a. Miss Lankester, whose dresses and complexion were always the talk of the ship, and whose fathâ€" er, the portly Colonel “of the Pay Deâ€" partment, was discreetly blind to everything but dinner and Whist. “Oh, no, not a. soldier at all, just a. man with a. large business of some sort or another in Madras, and a. huge income. I thought money made a better foundation for happiness than a. red or a blue coat, and Gerâ€" ard Broadwood has the dollars with- out the gold lace. We met up at Simla, last hot weather, for his friends are the right sort. and all that, and we ï¬xed it, up, and came home to get the trousseau, papa and “Gerard Broadwood? H’m! No more shipboard flirtation for you, mademoiselle,†and the conversation died away with a low murmur till Miss Lankester raised her voice again: “Oh, just a stgpid little entangle- ment. He got mixed up with some girl and declared that in a. moment of mental aberration she got a. promâ€" ise of marriage out of him. But What matter. He can write and send her the announcement of our marriage, and even a little gover- ness cannot expect a man to commit bigamy for the sake of her lovely eyes. Good-night, Mr. Harding; you must really go back to the smoking‘ room, or the people will be wonder- ing where you are.†‘ _.,,,L_..4. Elsie lifted herself on her elbow and stared out into the dark of her cabin with desperate eyes. She her- self was going out to marry Gerard Broadwood. Three years ago she had met him, he had fallen in love with her, and she had promised to go out to marry him as soon as the death of her old, bedridden aunt, should have set her free. ___O .V fl_ Then affairnt scuffle and a protest, and the passage W_a:s silent again. I For three years she had drudged at her daily governess Work, buoyed up ’by. the thought of the luxurious home waiting for her in the future. Her aunt had died, leaving her just enough money to pay her passage out to India, and, Writing to Broadâ€" WOod by one mail, she had followed her letter by the next steamer. She remembered now, when it was too late, that he had not written to her for months, save scrappy post- cards, each one stating how busy he was. He had Written only once from Simla that fatal last hot season, and when she had upbraided him he had replied that he had been ill with maâ€" laria, andâ€"she had believed him. What was she to do? She would land in India. penniless and friendless with no means of paying her return passage to England, no means of supporting herself in a country to which she looked forward with dread, even regarded in the light of a future home. To throw herself on the mercy of Gerard Broadwood was not to be thought of; to represent herself in her true position to Miss Lankester was absolutely impossible, for pride sealed her tongue. They would land in Bombay; Mrs. Dormer would take her to Madras where her husband was stationed. Such was the present arrangement, and after thatâ€"the deluge; for that good lady had made it clear that noâ€" thing Would induce her to retain Miss Blount’s services at any price. The stuffy cabin seemed more un- bearable than ever, and Elsie slipped to her feet with the feeling strong upon her that. she could rest no longer Within its four Walls. She dressed herself hurriedly and slipped out into the passage Way, for silence had fallen upon the whole ship, and she was in no mood to consider reâ€" gulations or rules in that moment of wild’ despair. Every one was asâ€" leep save the gentry] on his weary Walk and the N. C. O. in charge of the troop deck who had just been his rounds. The night was very still as the girl stole up the passage between the closed doors and out into the star- light. Her heart Was beating as though it would burst, and Sergeant Lewis,‘ as he turned and saw her from his coign of vantage behind the main hatch, held his breath for u moment at the thought that she was a spirit. Hrar head was thrown back, crown: ed with its egreole of pale golden The Sale of the King’s H01 :25 at Wolferton: A Tandem Pair. King Edward VII.,' as is well A public generally on the occasion of known, is, and has been for many 1 the sale of any portion of His Majesâ€" years, an enthusiastic breeder of ity’s stud. As can well be imagin- horses and stock. With the care led, there is active competition at taken in their selection it is not to E these sales and the bidding is al- be Wondered at therefore that much ! Ways brisk, ‘long' prices being in? interest is taken by horse dealers of i variably realized. the best class and the horse-loving } hair, and her face, White and serious, lighted by the young moon that caught the blue of her eyes and turnâ€" ed them into brilliant forget-me-nots seemed to him that of an angel. Her gown was no whiter than the hands that held the shan about her ï¬gure, and Sergeant Lewis drew a sharp breath of admiration and wonder. Elsie came on to his side of the ship, Where she paused, with a quick look round her of something of fear and in that brief instant there flash- ed into the sergeant’s mind the real- ization of What she Was about to do. It seemed to Elsie, as she hung ir- resolutely over the side, that the sea. beckoned to her, calling with a soft, resistless voice, to rest in the blue bosom of its almighty quiet, Where the dead lie undisturbed till the judgment day. 1|, ‘ 0,, “Come away, miss, you’re a. deal too near the Water,†said the serâ€" geant’s voice in her car as he laid a kindly hand on her shoulder. “If there is anything that I can do to help you, you must say the word, but for goodness’ sake come away from there.†“IKEâ€"d VIVï¬lisiie, looking round into his gaunt, weatherâ€"beaten face, flung her hands over her face and broke into Wild sobbing. It was a. few days later when Sergeant Lewis was climbing the ladder separating the troop deck from the upper portion of it, sacred to the N. C. O.’s and their Wives, that he came face to face with Miss Blount, who was returning from visâ€" iting a. sick child. He begged her to come aside a moment out of the reach of prying eyes. “I've been thinking over this mat- ter What you told me of that night, miss,†he said respectfully, glancing away from her white face agd tearâ€" sodden eyes. “You honored me with your conï¬dence, and, without meanâ€" ing no disrespect to you, I’ll give you the conclusions I’ve arrived at, since thinking the matter over. Beg- ging your pardon, miss, but we all know Mrs. Dormer on this ship, for she is Well known on the station as being a. terror to all about her, so We must put her aside from this question of assistance. Now, Miss, I'm a steady man, with eighteen years' service, and to be sergeantâ€" major in a few months’ time. I’ve saved a. tidy sum, and am not one to drink or smoke.†‘ï¬gâ€"pgusga: and Elsie looked up'at him with hopeless eyes lit with sudâ€" den wonder. “Now, miss, begging your pardon, this is what I have to say to you. If you will marry me when we land at Bombay I will keep you like a lady and never come u-nigh you save when it is your pleasure. You shall have your own house and a servant to wait on you and be kept 'in com- fort all your life. I’ll never ask you for more than you can give, and maybe you’ll be surprised, but I loved you since ï¬rst I clapped eyes on you coming on board at Tilbury, so patient and sweet, with that scolding woman at your elbow. If I’d had my Leeâ€"Metford ready to my shoulder it ha.’ been a, mercy to her husband’s regimentto ha’ rolled her over." He paused, and Elsie began to speak hurriedly. “Thank you, Sergeant Lewis, thank you very much. Iâ€"Iâ€"oh, there is nothing else for me to do. your offer helps me out of everyâ€" thing. I have no friends at home, no one anywhere who cares. I will marry you.†I U? ,1 1...; Auw. . J I, V __ It was a desperate thing to do, but her last chance of help, as it seemed to her then. Here was a good, honâ€" orable man offering her marriage and a home on one hand, while on the other, gaunt poverty stalked, with shame and misery in atten- dance. “I thank you, miss,†said the ser- geant solemnly, "and I promise you Shall never repent of it to your life’s end.†He made no attempt to touch her, with innate chivalry for which Elsie was thankful, and when she returned to her cabin and the dreary, nagging voice of Mrs. Dormer, who seemed to regard her as something between a. ,1, ,1 4",. It was their last night at, sea, and the screw of the Semiramis was throbbing. through the Water, doing her twelve knots in ï¬ne style, to pick up some of the time Wasted in .wa... .. maidâ€"ofâ€"allâ€"Work and a, black slave, she tbok heart at lche thought that there was help for her in the future, however humble that help might be. a storm in the Mediterranean. It was a briliiant night of stars and tropical heat, and everyone was on deck in their lounge chairs Watching for the lights of land and the vast continent that was to be their home for many a. Weary month. . J mand and he was puzzled to ï¬nd him among the rows of deck chairs, arâ€" ranged in couples, most of them very close together. He wandered awkâ€" wardly along in the dim light, for most of the electric jets had been switched off, save one over the door of the music saloon and one by the smoking-room, but when he caught the sound of Elsie’s voice he stopped unconsciously. Sergeant Lewis had come forward With a message for the oflicer in com- Afterwards, he was aware daily that he had done a thing not strict- ly honorable by remaining in the shadow of the awning behind Elsie and Dr. MeadoWs, but since it had saved him from making a vast misâ€" take, he did not blame himself, and a few words put him in possession of the truth, which was that the young army doctor loved Miss Blount, and that, alas, she had giv- en him her heart during the few days of the voyage that they had spent together. IC-JIEViégrnt also between her broken sobs that she had too great a sense of honor ever to give him urp_.> Lovâ€" ing the gentleman, she would marry the rough man who had asked her out of profound pity and generosity when she was friendless, “and remain faithful to him all her life. "Vsiciargeant Lewis delivered his mes- sage to Colonel Dwyer and Went aft again. _ . .. -‘ 1L. "awn, “Goodâ€"night, Lewis," said the cheery Colonel; “you’re not looking yourself at all tonight. I advise you to take a. spell of rest, or you will be bothered with your old maâ€" laria. again." -- v- †v 1, .w‘ -V. -_Dâ€"___. “Goodâ€"night, sir. Yes, I'm think- ing rest will be _ the best, thing for “-5 - .. me," he algéï¬Ã©fcd, and stumblea to- wards the ladder with the step of an old man. When Elsie Blount Went to her cabin late that night, with the full intention of crying herself to sleep over her hopeless love for Archie Meadows, which had come, like most things in her life, too late, she found in her berth a small parcel, directed to herself in a. clerky, stiff handâ€" writing. She opened it mechanically. It contained a large silver Watch, a. Signet ring, a. silver charm, and fifty pounds in bank notes. . p ‘,‘__1 Bewildered, she picked up a folded sheet of paper in which the watch had been wrapped. It had neither beginning nor end, but she knew in- stinctively from whom it came, and realized the tragedy that underlay the simple words before she compre- hended the full nature of the sacri- ï¬ce which a simple, honest heart had laid at her feet. “I hope you will take these things and be happy with the. ofï¬cer you was talking to to-night. It would never have» done for you and me to get married, and .I knew it, as soon '11, , oLLA“ b 7. 7777 as I had spoke to you 'the other night. The money will buy you your bits of things for tho wedding, and my respects to you and Surgeon Captain Meadovvs, and I ask you not to Lake on at what I am doing, and to think no more of me, for I am on- ly doing What seems to be my duty. And so, no more from your humble servant.†' The disappearance of Sergeant Lewis was a nine days’ wonder on the ship and in the regiment, and as Elsie Blount kept her lips sealed, no one ever learnt, the story of his conâ€" nection with her. He must have slipped overboard in the darkness, seeing the only escape he deemed possible from a situation that. had become impossible. His dream of happy, wedded life had been a brief one, and if in the plunge into the Unknown he had time to remember what might have been, Elsie hoped that the white Wings of the Death Angel had borne him swiftly to a world Where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage. _._-.. . _..U V , His regiment regretted him, until they forgot him in the absorbing inâ€" terest of their new life in the gor~ geous East. And Elsie was too happy with her husband, and too busy in convincing Germ-d Broadâ€" wood that she never cared for him, to remember for more than a few months'rthe man who had laid dew-n his life for her. For such is the way of the worldsâ€"Pearson’s Weekly. The sanitary production of milk commences with healthy covvs. This would seem to be a. natural infer- ence, and still it is surprising how little attention is given by even the more intelligent of our people to their dairy cattle. This may be ex- plained by the fact that an animal may be affected by several serious maladies, whose presence cannot readily be detected by mere external examination. It is doubtless true, however, that very little thought has ever been given to this subject, and it has rarely occurred to many people that the milk often of unâ€" healthy animals could be vitiated by the forms of disease that might be present in the system. As a. matter of fact, tuberculosis often conceals itself in an apparently healthy aniâ€" mal, and is credited with producing one death in every seven. It, should not’ be inferred from this that tuberculosis, as a. disease has been transmitted to the human fam- ily with such deadly effect, but in a. good many Well authenticated cases, and especially in those Where the udder is affected, the cow has been ' DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE for the destruction of many human beings. It is important that more attention should be paid to quesâ€" tions concerning the health of dairy cattle, especially as tuberculosis is readily transmitted to infants who are often fed on cow’s milk of doubtâ€" ful quality. Food plays an important part in the production of milk. This would naturally be so, and still it is perâ€" fectly amazing to see the forms of moldy, musty hay, spoiled ensilage, and Weevil-eaten meal fed to dairy cows by people who should have better judgment. Many persons seem to have the impression that the cow has a constitution of iron and so long as she will continue to eat such food, it is all right to feed it. This system is entirely wrong, and the thoughtful dairyman can no more afford to feed his cows poor food than he could to use it on his own table. Even granting he is too dishonorable to appreciate the rights of others, he cannot follow the method without incurring , HEAVY FINANCIAL LOSSES in his own business, as the continued use of such food will produce ill- health, and the ultimate death of the cattle. For example, feeding deâ€" cayed ensilage has been known to produce chronic intestinal catarrh, for which there is no remedy. Viâ€" cious foods of this character upset the whole organism of the animal, and often are responsible for the deâ€" velopment of latent inherited diseasâ€" es that otherwise would have reâ€" ‘mained inactive in the system. The cow, as well as any other animal, :must receive pure, Wholesome foods ‘in abundance, and these must be properly adapted to her particular needs, if she is expected to produce good milk. ,A_ 4.- Stables are a serious menace to the production of healthy cows. These often remain uncleaned for days, and in many instances Were never never known to be disinfected. Many are low, practically devoid of sunlight, and the home of molds and innumerable forms of bacteria which have been multiplying with incredâ€" ible rapidity for years past. The ï¬lthy, slimy condition and THE REEKING ODORS emanating from such pest holes are almost enough to destroy conï¬dence in humanity, and to make one seriâ€" ously ponder on the marvellous viâ€" tality of a class of animals that can withstand exposure to such abnor- mal conditions. There is no excuse for such a con- dition as this. Stables can be eas- ily cleaned, and disinfectants are reâ€" markably cheap. The use of lime alone would eli'ect wonders under such circumstances, and at practicalâ€" 1y no cost. At least sufï¬cient win- dows-can be put in to let in sunâ€" shine, nature’s most powerful disinâ€" fectant and destrbyer of germ life. The 'decay'mg and germ infested mangers can easily be scoured out and sweetened and the stables supâ€" plied With fresh bedding. In this way the cows can be kept under wholesome conditions with a reasonâ€" able expenditure of muscular energy. If the dairyman whose herd inhab- its such a place could realize the ec- onomy of better treatment of his anâ€" imals, marvellous changes would doubtless be Wrought in short order. Another frequent source of conâ€" tamination of milk is impure water. doubtless be Wrought in short order. Another frequent source of conâ€" tamination of milk is impure water. Many people have the idea that if the water comes from a spring it is of necessity pure, but do not stop to consider that this spring may have its source away back under the center of a. tOWn whose drainage ï¬nds its outlet through this chanâ€" nel. But this is no Worse than 3.1â€" lowing cows to drink from the FILTHY LITTLE STREAMS around towns and cities whose Waâ€" ters are polluted with sewage, dyes and waste products from numerous factories. Nor is the condition much better in the country, the sliâ€" my waters of some stagnant pool, within whose recesses the germs of diphtheria, typhoid and scarlet feâ€" ver frequently ï¬nd a lurking place. Since milk contains 87 per cent. of water, one can readily understand the large quantity necessary to the cow to supply the vital needs of her organization. It is a fact, many ep- THE CARE OF MILK. idemics of scarlet and typhom fever and diphtheria. have been traced di- rectly to the milk supg’sy. This is a striking evidence of the criminal ne- glect of cattle owners who mil to furnish theirxanimals with a pure and abundant water supply. It is quite brutal enough to expect the cattle to drink and thrive under such conditions, without. endangering the lives of a. community by such unwarranted neglect. ‘If greater care was exercised in the washing and proper cleansing 0: dairy utensils, a. frequent source of bad _milk would be destroyed. In the ï¬rst place, many of these utensils are faulty, they have angles and corners which are almost impossible to clean and many of the seams in them are n91". smooth soldered, and in these the milk accumulates and undergoes ferâ€" mentation, thus insuring a. constant source of infection, so long as this particular utensil is used. All milk vessels should have the fewest possi- ble seams, and should be so con- structed as to be easily reached with a. good strong brush. In cleansing them they should ï¬rst be rinsed with cold water, then with luke-warm Water, and ï¬nally scrub- bed vigorously With boiling water. Following this they should be thor- oughly scalded and sterilized with steam and placed in the air and sun to dry. This method of treatment will prevent them from rusting and will not only insure clean utensils. but will make it possible to avoid that greasy condition so often found owing to the fact that the utensils are ï¬rst plunged into hot water, which has the efl'ect of setting'the milk on the outside. stable. With amkle light should be the ï¬rst characteristic sought in a. sta- ble. If possible, cement floors and iron stanchions should be used, but if Wooden feeding troughs and racks are used, they should be occasionally whitewashed and, above everything Theh, greater care should be e):- ercised in the handling of milk in the else, good ventilation should be proâ€" vided, so that a fresh draught of air will be constantly entering the room and the foul odors escaping1 rI‘he cows shomld be carefully brush- ed oï¬â€˜ before milking. This not only adds circulation and beneï¬ts the an- imal’s health and increases the milk flow, but it removes all the dirt and loose hairs which are so often a source of contamination to the milk supply. The udder should be careful- ly wiped ol‘i and the milkers should be heat about their own person. I the feeding is to be done befo milking, and dry food such as shr l?- ded fodder to be used, it should ï¬rst be moistened to prevent clouds of dust arising to settle later in the mill: pail. The milk should be drawn into covered pails through a. ï¬ne meshed strainer. separated from the stable should bt provided, and the milk immediately removed to that vlace, Where it should run over a cooler to drive off the animal odors and to reduce the temperature. ‘ Another reason why milk should receive careful handling is because it is such a general and ideal food for all forms of animal life, and es‘ pecially so for the human being. In its pure form it is well adapted to the nourishment of young and old alike, and furnishes strength and 1111-. trition to the healthy man and gives new life and vigor to the invalid. It is one of the few forms of food so concentrated and yet so easily di- gested that it can alone sustain huâ€" man life for some length of time. It is an admirable brain food, and in many forms of disease is the only thing the aï¬licted one can partake of. Microscopic examination, however, is necessary before another of the v1- tal reasons for the sanitary produc- tion of milk can be fully realized. By pl’a:cin7gr a minute drép of milk under a. powerful microscope and ex- amining it, the presence of innumer- able of globeâ€"like bodies will be seen, constituting the globules. Around and between these will be found lit- tle chains of single~celled organisms, having the power to move freely from place to place and multiplying with remarkable rapidity in this ideal medium‘ These are bacteria. Minute and insigniï¬cant as they may seem, they have the power to digest milk and produce various fermentaâ€" tions. Some of these bactlria. are of the greatest dervice to the dairy- man, as Without the presence and favorable action the use of milk in several forms would be difï¬cult, if not impossible. 0n the other hand, milk with its abundant supply of easilyâ€"solvent food, is an ideal place for the incubation of germs of the most vicious types. It is therefore important that every care should be exercised in its handling to prevent infection by these undesirable forms of ,ife, or if their presence. is sus- pected that the milk should ï¬rst be treated in some Way to immunize their effect before consumption by the human being. Ted: "How did he come out Of hi! dilemma in regard to those two girls 2’ ' The sun is travelling at 4.0 mil _ a second, about 4,060 times as f i U Ned: “He decided to love the poor, one and marry the- rich one.†as an express train; EASING HIS CONSCIENCE. IN CONSTRUCTION ; HIG H CEILINGS LITTLE CLUMPS A MILK ROOM